


did i make you cry (on christmas day)

by mearcats



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Christmas, Complicated Relationships, Discussion of Abortion, Domestic Fluff, Everyone up here repressing their feelings, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Holidays, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Innuendo, Mentions of Abby/Carter, Mutual Pining, Rehabilitation, Relationship Discussions, med school, these were supposed to be fluffy ficlets but then I got feelings, they are super hashtag married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-03 09:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: Nine years. Nine years of Christmases since Luka had come into her life. They’ve only been together a handful of them—together together—even if they’ve been in proximity for nearly all of them.It’s been rocky, it’s been a hell of a rollercoaster, but Abby wouldn’t trade it for a smoother road, not if it’s brought her here.





	1. the greatest of gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kt_anansi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_anansi/gifts).



> From their first Christmas in 2000 to their first in Boston.

Nine years. Nine years of Christmases since Luka had come into her life. They’ve only been together a handful of them— _together_  together—even if they’ve been in proximity for nearly all of them.

It’s been rocky, it’s been a hell of a rollercoaster, but Abby wouldn’t trade it for a smoother road, not if it’s brought her here.

Luka lifts Joe to put the star on their tree, catching her eye as he lowers their son. The softness of his smile is one of the best gifts she could ask for, and he gives it to her freely.

Not to rip off of classic holiday movies, but it’s a pretty good life.

&&&&

_2000_

The first Christmas, the first together, the first since they met, the first since they kissed, since the first time she woke up in his arms, the first without him beside her.

It’s an awful shift, between Jing-Mei’s heartbreak at giving up her son, all the sick and injured children who inevitably wind up in the ER, and Carter’s relapse and the AA meeting she drags them to.

Luka’s in Croatia to visit his father, Abby remembers, turning back the other direction away from his hotel to take the L to her apartment.

It’s for the best—god knows Luka deserves to see his father, and it’s way too soon for them to be doing something as intense and intimate as spending Christmas together—but she realizes, sitting in her seat on the train, bundled against the omnipresent cold, that she misses him.

She’s not supposed to care, not like this. They’re casual, right? No permanent ties, no chance of getting hurt. Just great sex with someone she enjoys spending time with, someone to hold her and be a reprieve from the harsh loneliness of a busy existence.

She trudges up the icy steps to her apartment, tossing her purse onto the couch and sinking against the door as soon as she’s inside.

Abby wipes her burning eyes. She’s happy to be there for Carter—he needs her, and she knows how important it is to have your sponsor there for you keeping you accountable. But she’s  _tired_. Tomorrow will be more of the same, and so will the day after. She gets it, she doesn’t have a family to spend the day with, so she doesn’t mind staying busy and working through the holiday.

It’s just exhausting.

She could use a break. Maybe one of these years she’ll take Christmas off, go somewhere warm and tropical.

Her phone rings, rudely interrupting her fantasy involving her lounging by warm water, a tall, dark, and handsome man in a speedo fanning her and bringing her piña coladas. Virgin ones, she hurries to tell herself, before realizing it’s her damn imagination, and in her fantasies, she’s not an alcoholic and she can stop at one. There’s Stevie Wonder playing, too.

Abby groans, standing and making her way over to the loud, obnoxious thing. Normally she’d let it go to her machine, but with her mother gone…

If she sounds a little snippy, whoever it is can deal. “Hello?”

“Abby?” She can feel a grin tugging at her lips in spite of herself at the sound of Luka’s voice.

“Luka,” she says, suddenly uncertain. She wasn’t expecting him to call, and she hopes everything is all right.

“Merry Christmas! Or soon, anyway.”

Oh. Oh. He’s just calling because it’s Christmas. Right, that’s something people do in relationships, even somewhat undefined ones like theirs. “Merry—wait, Luka, isn’t it the middle of the night for you?”

“Yes, it is.”

She can  _hear_  his mischievous smile. She’s only seen it a couple of times, usually when they’re up to something naughty. Abby’s not sure if it’s the association with rather more pleasurable activities, but every time, it causes a swooping in her belly, a tugging at her heart. This is no exception “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. We decorated the tree and went to midnight mass, then Niko—my brother—dragged out a bottle of  _rakija_  for all of us who were still awake.”

Ah, so he’s probably at least a little tipsy. “ _Rakija_?”

“Mmhmm. A fruit liquor,” he says, accent thicker than normal.

Her lips twitch at how pleased he sounds. It’s…cute. “Are you drunk dialing me?”

“I’m not drunk, just a little tippy.”

“Tipsy?”

“Yeah, that.”

She can feel the laughter fighting to escape, the tension of the day fading away. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s nice. But I wish you were—well, I can’t wait to see you in a couple of days.”

Her heart races at what she thinks he was about to say, even if she feels a different sort of twisting ache at the way his voice deepens. Flirting she can do. “Oh yeah?”

“I have a present for you.”

“If it’s what I think it is, you don’t need to put a bow on it,” she says dryly, no longer able to hold back the chuckle.

He lets out a surprised laugh. “It’s not  _that_. It’s something for you to wear.”

“Oh my god.” Her cheeks are hot and she just  _knows_  she’s tomato-red.

She can hear garbled shouting on his end, merry and joyous. “I think I have to go, but I just wanted to call you for Christmas.”

“I’m glad you did,” she says, mildly surprised to find she means it, means it with everything in her.

“I—take care, Abby, and I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“I look forward to it,” she whispers.

They say their goodbyes and hang up, Abby standing by the base of her phone. She’s still tired and she still isn’t exactly enthusiastic about her shift tomorrow morning, but talking to Luka somehow makes it easier to bear.

She shakes her head and makes her way to the bathroom for a shower, mind drifting back to her earlier tropical fantasy. This time, it’s definitely Luka fanning her, and there’s no speedo in sight.

She’s going to sleep well tonight.


	2. i'll be home for christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some years, there's no elation or devastation, no tears of sorrow or joy. Sometimes they just _are_ , and that's fine. Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the angst and mutual pining...

_2001_

Another Christmas, another shift.

It’s fine, it really is. Abby is probably one of the few staffers who genuinely doesn’t mind having to stay later on Christmas.

Honestly, now that her AA meeting is over, she has no plans beyond a date with leftover Chinese food and avoiding holiday movies. Oooh, maybe  _Survivor_  will be on. She needs to call Maggie and Eric at some point, but it’ll keep.

Doc Magoo’s beckons, its light calling to her, singing songs of coffee.

Okay, maybe she needs to sleep.

Making her way inside, she’s about to head to one of the stools when she sees Luka sitting by himself at one of the little booths.

“Mind if I join you?” she says, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

He shakes his head and motions for her to sit. “Sure. I thought you were off already.”

“Yeah, I’m finally free, but I need coffee if I’m going to make it home. Are you still on?”

“Just taking a break,” he tells her with a nod.

The dark circles under his eyes give her pause. “It wasn’t awful. Busy, but not a crush.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Did you have a chance to call your dad and brother?” As soon as she asks, she wants to cringe. At least she didn’t say  _family_ , but he probably doesn’t want a reminder of any of that right now, especially after everything that happened with Nicole.

Nicole is one secret Abby is sure she’ll never share with Luka, no matter how close they get. Leaving aside all issues of practitioner-patient confidentiality, she can’t see how knowing would ever help Luka. And he deserves good things.

Theirs is probably the oddest breakup Abby has ever experienced. For being a fairly acrimonious ending to a fairly serious relationship, they sure have salvaged things admirably. In some ways, she feels closer to him now than she ever did lying next to him in bed.

(Except for the time they talked about his wife, or the time after Bishop Stewart passed away, but Abby pushes those memories down whenever they threaten to surface. It’s for their own good, and for amicable workplace relations.)

The server comes by and pours coffee for Abby. Luka turns down a refill and pays, sneakily covering hers as well. She scowls at him, but he waves it aside. “It’s Christmas, a cup of coffee is the least I can do, Abby.”

“I feel like I should be the one buying you coffee. Especially since I’m pretty sure you actually did post bail for that guy from last week,” she says, only half-joking.

He shrugs. “It wasn’t much, and families should be together on Christmas.”

Her heart twists. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s—it’s fine. I did get to talk to my father, but it isn’t a good time for me to go back to Croatia with...everything,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “What about you? Did you talk to Maggie yet?”

“I called her last night. We managed to have a civil ten-minute conversation, so, progress.”

“Is she…?” he trails off, but Abby knows what he means.

“Yeah, she seems to be doing well and staying on her meds. It’s nice, if I’m being honest.”

He smiles at her, one of those blindingly beautiful smiles that still makes her traitor heart beat a little faster. “Honesty is a good policy.”

“The best policy, or so they say.”

Luka lifts his cup in acknowledgment and drains the last of his coffee. “I should get back,” he says, rising to his feet.

“Good luck,” she tells him with a smile.

He hesitates for a moment before reaching down and placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “Merry Christmas, Abby.”

She pauses, shaken at the unexpected contact. Then she reaches up and places her hand over his. “You too, Luka,” she whispers.

She watches him leave and walk across the street, back into the ER. She can still feel his touch, his warmth, and she tries to bury the pang of longing.

They’re done. They couldn’t make it work, not like that. Sure, they’ve made real strides since then in being there for each other. But that’s been as each other’s friends.

Abby snorts and takes another sip of her coffee. Somehow, not being able to try to fuck away their problems means they’ve actually had to talk more. On one hand, it’s great—she’s realized how much she genuinely  _likes_  him as a person.

The flip side of that is that it’s a  _problem_  that she both likes him and wants him. This whole situation with Nicole notwithstanding, she doesn’t think Luka would be opposed to rekindling things between them.

The flash she gets of him holding her hand after she comforted him about his kids just last week makes her ache, both for his loss and in other, much more inconvenient ways.

It’s both too much and not enough. Or at least, it’s too late. She feels for him, all right, there’s no denying that.

But now, he could hurt her, more than he was capable of a few months ago. Abby remembers the leaden pain, the twist of betrayal, when he told her he’d gotten Nicole pregnant, and so soon after they were through.

Maybe Carter is right; she’s not entirely over Luka.

But can anyone really be over the people who’ve seen some part of you that no one else has? They’re sacred, those moments of vulnerability—on both their parts—that she and Luka have shared. She’s not sure she’ll ever be completely over it or him, as long as she’s still the person who was able to be brave enough to bare even part of her soul.

 _I should have hugged him before he left tonight_ , she thinks as she pulls herself to her feet.

Then again, she realizes as she bundles herself up to face the cold, maybe it’s best she didn’t.


	3. hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is a mess, and Abby isn't sure where it went so horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay on this one! It was angsty and painful, especially with everything going on right now. That said, I'd love to hear what you all think about this chapter.

_2002_

Abby locks her door behind her. Frank, in one of his fits of decency, had slipped her a taxi voucher after the mess that’s been the last shift. The last day, really. Or maybe even the last year, god.

It’s bad enough that she longs for a drink. She won’t do it, won’t give in to booze’s siren song, not when she’s alone here. But she wants it.

She doesn’t really know how to process today without having to process the last year or so, and she’s not willing to do that right now. Her life isn’t so bad right now; there’s no sense messing with things.

In spite of herself, she can’t get Luka’s face out of her head. She had dragged him to Sutures, cleaned and stitched up his forehead lac, avoiding his gaze all the while. She had shaken her head, given a “don’t worry about it” in response to his whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She’s not an idiot. Abby knows that everything with Nicole happened on the heels of their breakup, and if not for everything going on now, she’d be willing to call it a momentary lapse in judgment. But given Luka’s downward spiral that seemed to start when she got together with Carter, it’s hard not feel a little...not responsible, but culpable maybe. Involved, certainly.

Abby doesn’t wonder much if there’s something that could have gone differently—that’s a dangerous line of thought, and she’s almost happy now with Carter. Things are going well, they’re stable.

_“You don’t look happy.”_

_“I’m happy.”_

She wonders if the lady isn’t protesting too much, to butcher Shakespeare. Carter doesn’t inspire giddiness in her, but he’s been there for her. He doesn’t make her cry, which is more than she can say about most of the other important players in her life. That’s enough, isn’t it?

But she knows it could have so easily gone a different direction. Before the monkeypox disaster, she’d been just as close to getting back together with Luka. (God, she’d been so close to kissing him  _several_  times when she was staying with him after the fiasco with Brian.) Then she’d been quarantined with Carter and it had just  _happened_. There was no need to panic about having already failed at a romantic relationship. She and Luka had become such close friends, too, and she hadn’t wanted to risk that.

She ignores how, as he said, they don’t talk much anymore. She  _does_  have more to say, and all of it too much. She flinches, remembering that she’d fucking invited him to dinner. With her and Carter. Abby doesn’t know if it was a moment of cruelty, trying to rub it in.

Abby walks over to the shelf and picks up the snowglobe Luka gave her—she knows it was him, that’s obvious from the way he immediately knew how to wind it up. That, and everyone else had gotten gag gifts ranging from silly to raunchy, and hers—well, she can count on one hand how many people know of her secret penchant for kitsch. She winds it up and finds, to her consternation, that her eyes well as the familiar notes of  _Greensleeves_  (it could be  _What Child Is This_ , but she knows in her soul that it isn’t) play. It’s odd the things that one remembers sometimes, but she can actually remember the lyrics to the song that she learned way back in her undergrad music appreciation class.

_If you intend thus to disdain_

_It does the more enrapture me_

_And even so, I still remain_

_A lover in captivity_

As the tune starts to fade, Abby is horrified to realize she’s sobbing.

_“I miss you, Abby.”_

Luka can make her cry, but god can he make her laugh. He’s one of the few people she can be completely herself with, with no fear of judgment. Even if he doesn’t always understand her, he accepts her. She knows he’s not over her, even less than she’s over hi—everything that happened between them.

She misses him too, even as much of a mess as he is right now. He’s obviously hurting. This time of year is rough for him anyway, the loss of Danijela, Jasna, and Marko an ache at the best of times. This...is not the best of times. Even though he’s a disaster making the worst choices right now, Abby can still see his kind heart, his compassion. Oh, how she wishes she hadn’t yelled at him in the lounge. She knows he cares—he cares more deeply than almost anyone in her life.

She’s not sure if she weeps for Erin, for herself, for Luka, for all of them—but she hates that she can’t stop.

For a moment, she considers calling Carter before dismissing the idea. This isn’t something she can share with him, after everything that’s happened. Now that they’re together, he’s more tolerant of Luka, but she doubts that would continue to be the case if he heard any of this.

Could she call Luka? She could apologize, could let him apologize to her. They could provide each other with comfort, and he obviously needs it.

No, that won’t do. Aside from the fact that she prays Luka is sleeping now, resting, and not lost in nightmares and visions of everything that’s gone so horribly wrong, it’s just a bad idea. Calling your distraught ex on Christmas after having several emotionally charged encounters probably isn’t conducive to good decision-making.

She should probably avoid the phone right now anyway. What good can come of talking about all of this with anyone? Nonetheless, she wipes her eyes and picks up the phone, dialing a number she knows by heart.

It rings a few times, and finally the other end picks up. “Mom, can you talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up here or on tumblr! I'm also mearcats there and can be found flailing over so many things.


	4. makemba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Christmas is about ruminating on the nature of happiness. And not jinxing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said there'd be fluff? This chapter actually has some! A Christmas miracle! I mean, there are also two scared turtles, but they're growing.

_2003_

“Shift’s over, want to grab some breakfast or coffee?”

Abby looks up from her locker. Luka smiles at her from where he’s grabbing his own coat from his locker. “Sure, though I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep on you.”

His lips twist with amusement and he opens his mouth to say respond. She preemptively lifts her hand. “You know what I mean.”

“Tell yourself what you want, Abby. We all know you want  _this_ ,” he says with a grin, gesturing at himself.

Cheeks heating, she manages to roll her eyes. “Oh, come on. Let’s go get some food.”

He chuckles but refrains from further teasing as he holds the door open for her, and they make their way to Doc Magoo’s. It’s obscenely early (or late, depending how you look at it, and Abby is tired of looking at it from the wrong side of wakefulness).

They slide into a booth and place their orders. There’s hardly a crowd there, just a few other hospital employees and visitors, so their coffee and breakfast is in front of them in no time.

“Any big plans?” Luka asks.

“Sleeping, calling Maggie and Eric at some point, and food. Then I’ll be back at midnight. You?”

“I work midnight too—looks like we’ve been scheduled for a lot of the same shifts right now. When I get home I’ll call my father, but other than that, nothing.”

Abby huffs a laugh. “We’re an exciting pair, aren’t we?”

He shrugs. “Maybe next year will be different.”

“I hope so,” she says, trying to cover up the wistfulness.

She doesn’t entirely succeed, if the sympathetic smile she gets is any indication. “You’ve come a long way this year. You’re back in med school, and—I don’t know, you seem happier.”

“I am.” She pauses. “Sad, isn’t it? I’m happier over-worked and single than I was last year or most of the years before.”

Abby can see Luka’s internal panic as he grapples for a response. She silently curses—she knows he and Carter are friends now, and that’s to say nothing of her own history with him. “I just meant—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts. “I know what you mean.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m glad someone does, because I’m not entirely sure.”

It used to drive her crazy, the way he sits and waits for her to continue, but it’s something she’s grown to appreciate over time.

“I don’t know, last year I was with Carter, and it seemed so...stable? Like we were some kind of forgone conclusion. Stability’s overrated, but...but he ended up leaving and breaking up with me via letter, and while I’m proud of the changes I’ve made, I guess…”

“Abby, it’s okay if it still hurts. I don’t think he meant to, but sometimes we hurt each other without trying.”

She gets the feeling he’s not just talking about Carter but, well, can of worms.

Luka hesitates before continuing, “I grabbed the medicine box Carter sent for you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I know. But it’s here, if you change your mind.” He’s reaches out as if to touch her arm, but stops short.

_Oh_. This  _really_  isn’t just about the medicine box. She freezes. Abby knows—has known for a while that if she asked—if she made a move, Luka probably wouldn’t be averse to it. He doesn’t seem as hung up on her as he did a year ago (and she still has no idea how much of last Christmas he remembers), but he certainly wouldn’t say no. Probably.

Part of her wants to do it, to try again. She still cares, still wants him. God, if she learned anything from those few days she thought he was dead, it’s just how much she lo— _cares_  about him.

The thing is, she  _is_  happy with the progress she’s made on her own. She had stability last year, but not this—this contentment at what she’s accomplished and what she’s been able to achieve. She’s sober again, only smokes rarely, and is back in med school.

That’s part of it too—she’s a med student, and Luka is an attending physician. She knows no one would make a big deal of it, given their history, and neither she nor Luka would take advantage of that, but it’s still kind of...iffy.

Mostly, though, she’s not sure she’s ready for  _anything_  on that front. She’s obviously not completely over everything that happened with Carter, even if she wishes she were. She’s getting closer, but she’s not there yet.

Abby’s still finding finding her footing. She’s learning what makes her happy. Once again, she’s not there, but she’s doing what she can to figure it out. She has friends, and Maggie and Eric are doing well, which helps.

And as much as wants—and oh, how she  _wants_ —to be able to tell Luka that she’s ready to move forward, it would ring false. She’s not sure they’re on the same page right now about what “forward” looks like. Can she give him what he wants? And would she still be able to maintain everything going right for her if she added him—or anyone—into the mix?

_“I don’t want to jinx it,”_  she remembers telling him a few months ago, and that still holds true. She’s back in med school, certainly, but her other hopes and dreams...she’s not sure she’s ready to put those out into the universe just yet.

With a start, Abby also remembers the reason she didn’t fling herself into his arms like she wanted to when he came.

Gillian. Not that there’s a problem there, Gillian seemed nice and Abby’s honestly glad Luka had someone there for him, taking care of him, during an awful time in his life. But is that all he wants—someone to be there with him?

Realizing she’s spaced out, she shakes her head. “Sorry, lost in thought. Thanks. I...I’m not ready yet. Sorry.”

His brow furrows and he looks away, but a rueful smile tugs at his lips. “You don’t need to apologize.”

She shrugs. “What if I never want it?” she asks breezily.

“Then I have a medicine box of my very own,” Luka says with laugh, fortunately picking up on her shift away from layers of meanings and questions within questions.

“Consider it my gift to you,” she says, lips quivering as she tries not to giggle.

“Thank you, but I didn’t get you anything this year…”

_You’re here. You came back. You’re alive, and that’s enough._

Shying away from that dangerous train of thought, she grins up at him. “You can get breakfast.”


	5. twas the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a family is two exhausted interns and their mulling over history and the mystery of the future.

_2004_

Abby lets Neela into the apartment ahead of her and locks the door behind them.  _What a shift._  She’s exhausted—what else is new—but content in the knowledge that she (and all of them there last night) did a lot of good. They saved lives.

She wants to sleep—god knows she needs it—but she’s still too wired.

So is Neela. “There’s no way I could sleep yet. Telly or breakfast? Or we could do both.”

“It’s Christmas, let’s do both.”

“We truly do live a wild life.”

“I could even break out the sparkling grape juice I’ve been saving, if we’re feeling particularly adventurous,” Abby says with a laugh.

They work together to make breakfast. It’s nothing fancy or time-consuming, but it’s nice, and they work just as well together in the kitchen as they do in a trauma room.

Neela turns the TV on while they eat. Abby doesn’t even mind the maudlin nostalgia of whatever Christmas movie is on, not today.

“Pez?” Neela offers with a wry smile when they’re done with breakfast.

She takes one. “Ahh, dessert. No fruitcake for us.”

“Even chalky sweets are better than fruitcake.”

“Yeah, no complaints here. This is better than the takeout and coffee I’ve managed the last bunch of Christmases.”

Neela sighs. “At least working Christmas is old hat for you. I still need to get used to it.”

_“Next year, I’m going to invent a family so I don’t have to come on Christmas.”_  Her earlier words come back to her, and she represses the urge to laugh. “I don’t know if you ever get used to it,” Abby says. “But when I was a nurse I got holiday pay, and it’s not like I had family waiting for me at home.”

“Well, I’m glad we have this this year, even if it’s not family and we did work anyway.”

“Family schmamily, we’re two badass interns. Two interns who need to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and buy toys, but yeah.”

“Oh god, it’s going to be a nightmare,” Neela says. “I did get you something, though.”

“As long as it’s not another copy of ‘Rats, Lice, and History,’ we’re good.”

“Did you ever find out who gave that to you?”

Abby winces. “It turns out Dubenko was my secret Santa.”

“Oh, dear. I’m guessing it wasn’t ironic?”

“Alas, no such luck. He wants to get together and discuss it.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a euphemism. Or if it’s better or worse if it is,” Neela giggles.

She fights back a smile, but isn’t entirely successful. “Oh, shut up. Who did you have for the exchange?”

“That mean wanker of a cardiology chief.”  
  


“Kayson? Yikes.”

“I got him one of those obnoxious singing fish. Who did you have?”

Abby hopes the apartment is dim enough that Neela can’t see the color rise in her cheeks. “Luka.”

“Oh, that’s not fair. You two used to date, right? And you’re good friends, so that was probably the easiest one yet,” Neela says with a whine.

“It’s been a while, though. And we don’t talk as much as we used to.”

“What did you get him, then?”

Abby laughs. “The Jewel CD that came out last year. I hope he doesn’t have it already.”

Neela makes a face. “I wouldn’t have guessed he’s a Jewel fan. Or was it a sort of joke?”

“No, he legitimately enjoys Jewel. He has appalling taste in music, so she’s really the best option.”

“Then I’m glad you got me a jumper and not music.”

“Hey, his poor taste in music isn’t on me. Besides, it would have felt weird to get him anything more personal,” Abby defends herself.

Nodding, Neela agrees. “Because he’s our attending or because of Sam? Either way…”

“Mostly Sam,” Abby says, drifting into thought.

It doesn’t bother her most of the time. She has no desire to mess things up for him by being the ex that’s still overly involved in his life. She likes Sam, even if they’re not close. But she’s the reason Abby and Luka don’t spend much time together anymore, and it does hurt a little. As complicated as it is (was?), he’s one of her oldest friends here at County, and she  _misses_  him.

Now he has Sam and Alex though, a family all his own.

With a pang, she remembers last Christmas and their breakfast together. Maybe she’d been wrong about what she thought he was offering. Sometimes a box is just a box, after all.

Or maybe Luka had gotten tired of waiting.

That’s the possibility that hurts the most. She hopes it was just bad timing—she wasn’t ready for anything romantic at all until she was done with med school, and she’d needed time to get over everything with Carter. It’s almost funny now, the idea of her and John and all the drama that surrounded them. It all pales in comparison to the love he found with Kem and the loss they suffered, and she counts herself lucky that they’re truly friends again.

Still, though, it wasn’t even two months after last Christmas that Luka and Sam got together. On one hand, Abby gets it. Sam can give Luka something he’s wanted for years, has been missing since Danijela, Jasna, and Marko died, something Abby’s not sure she can or will ever give anyone.

It’s not an ever-present ache or anything, and Abby tries not to think about it much, but it smarts from time to time.

Besides, he seems happy. And more than anything, she wants that for him, even if it’s not with her.

She shakes her head. She’s found a lot of happiness on her own over the last year, and she’ll keep on trying. It’s not completely hopeless, she thinks, the cute med student she met with the beard and the nice smile popping into her mind.

“Anyway, thanks for the gift card, Neela. I love that place, and I need to get my nails done again.”

“If you’d like, we can go tomorrow when we’re done shopping.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Neela sighs, and Abby looks over at her, eyebrow raised in question. “I wonder what next Christmas will be like, that’s all.”

Abby shrugs. “More of the same, probably.”


	6. all about christmas eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps the biggest struggle over the years is not listening to fear.

_2005_

Abby stirs and stretches, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She’s warm and cozy and...oh. Right. She’s been napping in Luka’s arms here on her couch, and if the snores are any indication, he’s still asleep.

She settles back into his embrace, still tired even after a late wake-up and a nap. It’s no wonder, really, given how her mind has been racing since approximately 7:34 am yesterday.

She’s an idiot. So is Luka, if she’s being fair. They’re both doctors, for god’s sake, and Abby worked in OB for years.

How did she miss the signs that she was pregnant? It hadn’t been until yesterday when she’d swung home to change before running errands and going to work that she’d stopped and realized it was already Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve, which meant she was  _very_  late, even with her irregular cycle.

They shouldn’t have even allowed themselves to get into a position (and if that thought doesn’t take her inappropriate places…) where she could have gotten pregnant. She’s given the birth control spiel more times than she can count, so the fact that she and Luka just  _forgot_  to use condoms repeatedly is pretty inexcusable.

In her defense, she was  _incredibly_  distracted at the time. She certainly hadn’t been expecting (she sighs at the unintended pun) that going over to talk and unburden herself and rant would lead to sleeping with her ex, her best friend, for the first time in over four years. It might be disloyal to Neela, but Luka truly is her best friend—he’s the person she wants to talk to about nearly everything, he makes her laugh, and she loves making him laugh.

Abby lets out a sigh. It’s the familiarity of him that’s part of this—by the time they’d broken up when they’d been together before, she’d been on the pill and they hadn’t been using condoms. So it hadn’t even crossed her mind that night, wild and passionate and perfect as it was. And she’d been so busy lately, she hadn’t gotten her Depo shot since before Jake moved away. She hadn’t even thought about it until yesterday.

The how of it all doesn’t matter in light of the fact that she  _is_  pregnant. They—no, she, she has a decision to make.

Maybe it would be easier if it were one decision, if this one thing wouldn’t change everything no matter what she chooses. If she keeps it...that’s a lot. But if she doesn’t keep the baby, it will fundamentally alter everything about her and Luka’s relationship.

As if sensing her increasing agitation, Luka wakes up. “Hey,” he says with a yawn, rubbing her upper arms.

She lets out a breath and some of tension in her shoulders fades away at the sound of his voice, hoarse and groggy, his accent deeper than it is when he’s fully awake. “Hey, yourself.”

“Did you get some rest?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been awake long.”

His arms tighten around her. “You okay?”

She snorts. “I’m not really sure how to answer that.”

“Can I get you some tea or coffee? Or food?”

“You don’t have to feed me, Luka.”

“I know. I just want to make things easier for you.”

Something loosens in her chest, and Abby smiles and turns to face him. “Thank you. I really do like the scarf you got me, too.”

He kisses her forehead. “It feels a little impersonal now.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she shakes her head. “No, it’s perfect. And you got me the compass, which...well, I love it.”

“I—I’m glad.”

The fall silent. It’s not uncomfortable, holding each other there in the quiet, but after a while she gets antsy and goes to her stereo to turn on some Christmas music.

Luka swings his legs off the couch and watches her walk back toward him, eyes soft and his hair mussed. A rush of affection—and maybe something deeper—rises in her, and she goes to stand in front of him and pushes his hair off his forehead. He leans his head on her chest as he pulls her close. It’s an echo of their first time together, but now there’s so much more history and depth.

“I’m scared, Luka.”

He looks up at her and runs a hand through her hair, playing with the ends. “So what do we do?”

Abby is tempted to brush it off and joke around, but he’s  _here_  and he’s making it so easy to lean on him and confide in him about her fears. “I had an abortion.”

He gives her an odd look, and she hurries to explain. “Not now, obviously. But I was pregnant before, when I was married to Richard.”

Pulling her into his lap, he nods for her to continue. “I don’t know, things were already bad between us. I was worried that the baby would be bipolar, and it would have thrown off my schooling and working. I didn’t even tell him, I just went and did it.”

“You told me.”

“It’s...it’s different.”

“How?” he asks, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

She hesitates. Abby isn’t sure if she’s ready to tell him everything she feels, given that he’s been so reticent to define their relationship the last few times she’s hinted at it. He obviously cares about her and enjoys her and her company, but that may have to be enough.

Joy. Her first reaction upon seeing that plus sign had been unfettered joy, and that scares the hell out of her. Beyond the possibility of any child of hers being bipolar, beyond the awful things that could happen to sweet, innocent children like Danielle Hopkins, the thing that frightens her most is how much she wants this.

She wants this baby. She wants it with Luka. She wants  _everything_  with Luka, and she’s terrified.

“It just is,” she says. “You said we could make it work if I want to.”

“Do you want to?” he asks eagerly.

Does he want this the same way she does? Or is this just the fulfillment of a dream for him, a box to be checked off? If it is, she’s not sure she can handle it. Nicole springs to mind, and she winces. “I...I don’t know.”

“We have time to decide.” Luka sighs, then kisses her. “It’s up to you.”

She kisses him back, gently at first, but it soon turns heated. She can feel him hardening against her, but he pulls back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Luka,” she says, cutting him off, “I’m already pregnant. It’s not like you can get me  _more_  pregnant. It’s fine. I want this.”

He looks back at her sheepishly, though it doesn’t stop him from running his hands up under her sweater. “Should I apologize?”

“No, just kiss me.”

Later, once he’s thoroughly kissed and made love to her, they snuggle together again. Abby pulls a blanket over them, the air chilly against their bare skin. Definitely a worthwhile detour, though.

They put the television on, and Abby enjoys the feel of being tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms slung loosely around her, his thumb lightly caressing her upper arm.

They watch for a while, but then he turns to her and frowns.

“What?”

“Abby...you know I’m clean, right?”

She blinks at him. “Huh?”

“I’m clean. So there’s no danger from anything like that to the baby.”

“Ah, the baby,” she says, looking away from him.

He seems to realize he’s hurt her and reaches to gently cup her cheek. “Hey, hey, look at me. I would never do anything to endanger you. I—you mean too much to me.”

She softens and catches his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear it, but I kind of figured after, uh, everything, you probably got tested when you were in the hospital with malaria, and then you were with Sam.”

“I just wanted you to know for sure, since we—well, we haven’t been so good with birth control. Obviously.”

She laughs. “Clearly. Um, I’m clean too.”

He nods at her in that jerky way that means he feels awkward, but it’s so earnest and cute. “Good, good.”

“Would you say it’s ‘nice’?”

“That’s your word, not mine,” he says, attempting to frown but quickly giving in and giggling.

Abby slaps at his shoulder. “I have yet to see you do better.”

“My English is not so good, especially after that thing you do with your—”

“Luka!” They’re alone and naked, and they’ve conceived a child, but she still feels the heat rising in her cheeks.

He beams down at her. “Don’t worry, I like it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course you do.” Taking his hand, she laces their fingers together.

His expression turns serious again, and her heart flutters. “I just...I don’t want to ever hurt you or give you reason to worry.”

And that, she thinks, is precisely why she’s in so much danger. He’s so sweet and caring, and she has no idea what it means for her, for them, or for this baby. “I know.”


	7. city of mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, there are no tears, not even ones of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! Real life got crazy, but I'm going to try to finish this fic by Christmas!

_2006_

Abby sits up and stretches from her place in the bed, smiling down at the antlers where they’ve fallen atop her discarded lingerie. She needs to put on some clothes, or at least throw on Luka’s robe, but right now she wants to luxuriate in the momentary peace.

Joe is miraculously still asleep, a gift she’s unlikely to get again for many, many years to come. He’ll probably sleep in again on Christmas as a teenager, right? For now, she’ll enjoy his lack of awareness of the holiday, though, while she waits for Luka to bring her a cup of coffee. (She does have a fondness for that “Turkish mud” now.)

Luka had woken her earlier than she would normally have cared for on a day off, but since he was making it up to her with coffee after making love to her, she doesn’t mind. She’s a little sore from last night and this morning, but it’s the best kind of ache. Nevertheless, she groans as she pushes herself to her feet.

She pulls on Luka’s robe and shuffles out of their bedroom, making her way to two of her three great loves. She accepts the cup of coffee he silently offers and the kiss he brushes across her lips with a pleased murmur.

“I was thinking I’d make us breakfast. Eggs?”

“I think we have some ham, too.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Greedy.”

Abby faux pouts. “Please?”

One of the nice things about sharing their lives and knowing each other as well as they do is that Abby knows how powerless Luka is when she pleads (or bosses him around, but that’s a whole different kettle of fish). So she’s utterly unsurprised at his put-upon sigh as he turns to the fridge to get out the ham and eggs, barely concealing his smile.

She sets down her coffee and walks up behind him as he heats the skillet, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you.”

“If I had known that’s what it takes, I would have made you ham years ago,” he says, reaching down to squeeze her arm.

Shaking her head at him even though he can’t see her, she says, “I mean it. Thank you for this, and for...this. Our life together.”

He whirls around and engulfs her in his arms. “I love you too.”

As if on cue, Joe’s morning babbling echoes through the monitor. Clearly, he doesn’t want to miss out on any potential fun. Abby goes to get him before his cooing turns into crying, since Luka’s still in the kitchen making sure their breakfast doesn’t burn.

Later, they open their gifts—Joe is more interested in the boxes and shiny bows than his actual gifts, but Abby loves the beautiful necklace from Luka (“I promise I’ll get you the glass frog next year.”). Luka gives her a quelling look when he opens his present from her, given that all he sees at first a box of his preferred brand of hair dye. (And yes, she’d had a giggle when she found out he dyed his hair, mostly at the unexpected vanity of it.) Below that is the real gift. She hopes he’ll see it that way, even if it’s not really a  _thing_.

She bites her lip as his brow furrows as he reads the papers in front of him. “It’s my old lease. As of the beginning of the new year, Neela will be the official occupant of my old apartment instead of just subletting.”

Luka’s gaze softens as she babbles. It’s not the yes to his standing proposal—he’s hinted more than a few times since that Joe was born—but it’s a step she’s willing and even eager to take.

Abby crawls over to Luka and into his lap, kissing him until they’re both breathless. Their life isn’t perfect, they still have issues, but they have each other, they have Joe, and they have love.

She’s starting to come around on the marriage thing. Maybe in the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, I 100% spent far too much time thinking about how Luka obviously dyes his hair. He goes from salt and pepper to full-on dark, and its hilarious.


	8. 300 patients (patience)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This year might be the worst, having had it all and being faced with losing it. Even so, not all tears, as Tolkien says, are evil.

_2007_

To be blunt, this is ass. Abby hates this Christmas more than she’s hated the holiday in a long time. Probably since she was still married to Richard.

It’s partially her fault. Or all her fault. God, why can’t she be one of those people who can stop at one drink? What is it that compels her to keep drinking and drinking? What about her makes her so prone to self-sabotage, to endanger her own son and risk her marriage by drunkenly sleeping with someone else?

She hates it, she hates this, and she kind of hates herself right now. All her hard work, all the joy in her life, gone—possibly forever—because of a moment of fear and weakness.

It’s been especially bad the last few days since Luka visited her. Abby had cried herself to sleep that night and the following one, though she’d managed to get the waterworks under control yesterday. Today...today is going to be hard.

She has some activities around the center to participate in, and Janet’s going to stop by in a couple hours. Otherwise, she’ll try to fill the time. Luka is supposed to call later so she can talk to Joe, and she’s  _scared_. It’ll be fine talking to Joe and she can’t wait to hear her little boy’s babbling, but Luka is a different story.

Is he still mad? Will he even talk to her at all? Is she okay enough to talk to him without bursting into tears?

It hurts in ways she couldn’t have imagined when she said “I do,” or for the entire year and half before that.

Abby rubs her eyes and groans as she rolls out of bed and heads for the shower, hoping that’ll help her wake up and feel better about the day. Optimism has never been her strong suit, but right now she’ll take whatever she can get to give her a little hope.

The shower does help a little, and so does Janet’s visit. Janet brings actual Chinese takeout with her, and they feast and catch up. She doesn’t tell her about Luka’s visit, but she does confess to being worried about how things will go once she’s out of rehab.

It’s around 2pm when her phone rings. Her heart speeds up, her palms go clammy, and butterflies make themselves well and truly known in her stomach.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Abby, here’s Joe.” Luka doesn’t sound angry, but it’s so short a greeting that her heart sinks down into the basement, though she hopes her voice isn’t too thick when she greets Joe.

“Hey, baby! Mama misses you,” she says, and his excited gibberish response is a balm to her soul.

She lets him chatter at her, and she tells him how much she loves and misses him, singing him one of his favorite songs. She’s halfway into reciting Good Night, Gorilla from memory when she hears Luka say, “Okay, Joe, it’s time to let me talk to Mommy now, okay?”

She braces herself, willing herself be positive while not being too hopeful. She takes a deep breath and bids herself not to tear up at Luka’s quiet “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. And merry Christmas.” It’s been such a long time since their silences have been so fraught, and she’d thought—hoped, really—that telling Luka about her alcoholism and asking for help would be what they needed.

He’s quiet on the other end, then he clears his throat. “Yeah. Uh, I hope you’re having...well, are you okay?”

Abby’s eyes well with tears and she prays he doesn’t hear her sniffle, though he can’t miss how thick her voice is. “Oh, um, it was okay. I got to sleep in today, and Janet came by with lunch. We had Chinese takeout.”

“That sounds...nice.” There’s something she can’t quite figure out in his reply, but she lets it go, not knowing how to ask.

“It was okay,” she blurts out. “I miss you guys.”

He lets out a deep sigh, and her heart and stomach do things that are anatomically improbable. “I miss you too, Abby.”

She’s unwilling to wait to hear the “but” she thinks will follow. “Did you get the gifts I mailed?”

“Yeah, they arrived a couple days ago. Joe loves the new books and the stuffed mouse.”

“It’s from Ratatouille.”

“We all saw that together at the dollar theater when I got back,” he says, and she hears the smile in his voice. Relief washes over her at this small mercy.

“Yeah.”

Luka clears his throat again. “I, uh—thank you for the poems you sent me.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispers.

She had sent him a collection of modern American poetry, the poem she’d recited (butchered) at their wedding bookmarked. Included had been a note:

_Luka, I know I haven’t done the best job of carrying your heart these last couple of months, but I want to work on it for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me. I miss you. All my love and all my heart are yours, Abby_

She waits for him to continue, but gets nervous after a few moments of silence. “So, uh, do anything earlier today?”

“We did. We went to mass last night after decorating the tree, and we opened presents earlier and we’ve eaten already,” he says, pausing before continuing, “Abby...did you receive the present I sent you? Joe sent things too, but—yeah. We sent you stuff.”

“No, not yet.”

He curses, muttering in Croatian what is undoubtedly very unflattering descriptions of the USPS. “It was supposed to get there in time.”

_Please don’t be divorce papers_ , she prays. Out loud, she says, “Maybe it’ll get here tomorrow.”

“Maybe, I just wanted you to have it, especially—well, especially with how we left things.”

Biting her lip, she asks, “Can I get a hint?”

He chuckles. “Sorry, still not the glass frog. One of these years I’ll get around to getting that for you.”

Hope soars at his reference to Christmases future. “Well, then it must be spark plugs.”

“I’d tell you to page me, but…”

Abby is so delighted by the mild flirtation she nearly forgets there is no more pager, no more working together, and that they’re separated by thousands of miles. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

Luka is quiet for a minute. “I got you something else. Uh, I got you a plane ticket to here once you get out of rehab. It’s really a voucher, so you can plan the date if there are things you need to do, or if you need to rest after—”

She cuts off his babbling, not even bothering to hide how choked up she is. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, sounding just as emotional as she feels.

&&&

The gifts from him and Joe arrive a couple days later. Luka’s gift to her was the compass, the same one he had given her two years before. Abby weeps at his short note that reads, “ _So you can find your way back to us, to me. Love, your husband_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most painful chapter, whew. And next is our resolution (and tidings of comfort and joy?).


	9. boston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends, with a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to all, if you celebrate! Thank you for joining me on this fic journey, and I'm so thrilled that this fic has resonated with SO many more people than I thought it would. <3

_2008_ **  
**

It’s a bit of a madhouse now that Joe is not only mobile, but a very determined and stubborn two. He’d made his way into their room at a quarter ‘til seven, babbling excitedly about opening the presents under the tree.

Abby and Luka had groggily dragged themselves out of bed and accompanied Joe downstairs. They’d managed to convince him to wait until their coffee was brewed before beginning, but were unable to persuade him that breakfast would be a good idea too.

He’s still just as intrigued by the boxes as his actual gifts, but Abby imagines this is the last year that’ll be the case. She aches at how quickly he’s growing and for a moment she wishes she could slow time, but then Luka slides onto the couch behind her, his hands coming to rest gently on her shoulders.

She leans back with a sigh of bliss as he digs his fingers into her muscles in a light massage. “Mmm, thank you.”

“I can think of a few ways you could thank me,” he teases.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Always, since I have such a beautiful wife.”

She shakes her head, smiling as Luka continues his ministrations. It hasn’t been a walk in the park since they got back together—they both had (have, even) a lot to sort out, both individually and as a couple, but it’s good. So good Abby can scarcely believe it sometimes, and she’s woken up more than once in the night and just watched Luka sleep as she thanks whatever deities are out there that they can still have this with each other.

She really does love him more than she could ever say, even if that’s something they’re both working on. She tries to show him, and he her, the depth of that love daily, in all the little ways they’re rebuilding their life together.

Abby hands Luka his gift from her. It’s a very nice briefcase, all embossed black leather, but not nearly as personal as what’s inside it. She’s hinted, so he might not be surprised, but then again, he is still Luka, astoundingly oblivious at times.

The real gift—that she’s starting paperwork to try to transfer to one of MassGen’s family clinics—is inside the briefcase, or at least the first steps.

He smiles and thanks her, making no motion to look inside.

“Open it,” she tells him.

He does so, reading over the first page before looking up and raising an eyebrow in question. “I don’t have to transfer, but the position opened up, and the hours are better. I know it’s not nearly as unpredictable here as at County, but—”

Luka cuts her off, reaching down to pull her up into his lap on the couch. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know you love emergency medicine, and things are good.”

“I do love emergency medicine, but I love you and Joe more, and I want to be able to be spend more time together as a family.”

“Then I’m happy, because that’s what I want too.”

Abby nods. “It’ll be good for me, too. Having better hours and more of a routine will help me with my recovery.”

He doesn’t answer with words, just brushes his lips across hers. Then he reaches past her for the stack of gifts with her name on it and plops it into her lap.

She opens the first to find the oft-promised spark plugs, and joins Luka in laughing as the second reveals a glass frog. “You’re such an idiot. I love you.”

“And I love you, but open the last one.”

So Abby does, and her eyes widen at the different brochures for a Hawaiian getaway.

“I thought we could go for our second anniversary, if you want. We can plan it together, but Kerry already offered to watch Joe, so it could be a real honeymoon.”

She drops the brochures and throws her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. When Luka finally pulls back, he’s as breathless as she is. He calls out to Joe, who has been happily occupied with one of those educational puzzle boxes Susan had sent. “Joe, are you ready for your nap?”

Abby can’t help but giggle, leaning back into her husband’s embrace. It’s been a long road, but this? It’s worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be like 300 words. Sigh. If you enjoy, please let me know!


End file.
